He stood abruptly. “Best of luck to you then, Lady Alistair. May the Fates deliver a savior worthy of your high esteem.” He tipped his head in a mockery of respect and walked away, taking his enchanted light with him.

Alder counted to three. He wasn’t really going to leave her there, but she didn’t know that, and he absolutely would not engage with the direction she’d taken the conversation. He was sure three seconds alone in that pit of hell was all it would take for that stubborn, intractable girl to see some sense, but when he made it to five, he started to doubt.

By seven, he stopped and glanced back toward the pit with a frown. Rys said his oldest sister was headstrong, but Fates above, this was downright absurd?—

“Fine!” Her voice echoed from the darkness, and Alder sighed. “I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know.” She mumbled other things she probably thought he couldn’t hear, none of which flattered his person but made him grin nonetheless. She had heart; he’d give her that.

Alder returned to the pit in three strides, with the light.

“So?” Josephine said bitterly, breathing warm air onto her hands. “What is it you wish to know,exactly?”

Alder crouched on the balls of his feet and rested his forearms upon his knees. “I want to know—exactly—how you came about that coat.”

“I have no idea,” she replied with a mark of exasperation. “It belongs to my grandfather, apparently, but I only learned about it this morning—saints as my witness.” She even raised a hand in pledge, which Alder found oddly endearing. “My mother showed it to me just before your high lord’s little speech in the square, and then she intended to bargain for it.”

Alder hid his surprise. She’d only learned about it this morning? That was unexpected, but he believed her. “Your mother wished to bargain for…what?”

“I think…well, she’d caught on to the notion that this coat would save our family from starving to death, but if you want more information, I can’t help you. Like I said, I only learned about the coat this morning, and I’ve told you everything I know. I have no idea why your high lord wants it, other than keeping it from that Prince Alder…” She stopped and narrowed her eyes on him. “By the way, you’re not working for Prince Alder, are you?”

Alder couldn’t help it; he laughed. Of all the…“No. I most certainly am not working for Prince Alder.”

She appeared satisfied, somewhat, then glanced about her, specifically at the depraved carcass lying at her feet. “No, I suppose you couldn’t be.” She glared up at him. “But you still haven’t told me your name.”

He gazed at her, considering. He couldn’t tell her the truth; she’d never trust him now. “Marks,” he replied at last.

She mulled this over. “Well,Marks, if that’s really what you’re called?—”

“It is.” Though no one had used it in decades, and the one who’d given him that name utilized other, more defamatory names for him now.

She looked skeptical, but let it go. “Anyway, I have nothing more to tell you, so if you don’t mind, I could really use?—”

“I do mind. I have one more question.”

Frustration made her a glory of color. “I don’t know anything else?—”

“How didyoumanage to take the coat back from Massie?”

This stopped her short. Alder knew the question would make her uncomfortable, just like he knew there was more to this story than greeted him on the surface. More toher, and this family. But would she confess?

Or…did she even know?

Her gaze fell to the coat. She deliberated before saying, decidedly, “What I gave to Massie was a fake, but…I did not realize it at the time.”

Premonition tingled at the back of Alder’s mind. “And…how, precisely, did you learn about therealcoat?”

“I…” Her brow puckered, and she didn’t seem to know how to proceed.

“You’re saints-touched,” Alder said.

She appeared equal parts relieved and concerned. Alder didn’t doubt this had been a closely protected secret, and he knew very well the burden of carrying a secret alone.

Especially a dangerous one.

“Is it Sight?” he asked, and when she hesitated, he added, “You have nothing to fear from me on that account?—”

“I don’t have the Sight,” she interrupted quietly.

Alder stilled, eyeing her.